


Exile and Banishment

by RealtaCuardach



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post series 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealtaCuardach/pseuds/RealtaCuardach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man can only take so much, and Merlin finally snaps and leaves Camelot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exile and Banishment

Merlin had been threatened with exile with increasing frequency and vehemency for the past few weeks. But when the banishment finally happened, it was self-imposed.

It was an almost ridiculously minor occurrence, but it was that final threat of banishment that was the last straw. It was not when Arthur almost angrily said he didn't need friends after executing King Caerleon. It was not when Arthur banished Gwen and then refused to listen to Merlin's pleas while wrapping himself in a mantle of grief and betrayal. It was not even when he threatened Merlin not once but twice during Princess Mithian's visit.

It was a usual breakfast in Arthur's chambers – Merlin chattering as he pulled back the curtains and readied Arthur's clothes, all while ducking the usual goblet and apple. Arthur had mentioned off-handedly as he shrugged on his jacket that he had a quick meeting with Agravaine before the council officially met, which made Merlin stiffen with suspicion. He knew Agravaine was up to no good; he trusted Gwen when she'd told him that he'd found the plans to the citadel, and Merlin did not like the idea of Arthur being alone with him.

"Be careful."

Two words. Two little words, and Arthur completely overreacted. He spun on his friend and vehemently rebuked him. "I'll not hear this. I've been forgiving until now, but I swear that you say another word against my council and you will be banished." He glared. "Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, sire." If Arthur had not been so consumed by irritation, he might have noticed how Merlin jerked back, how the light left his eyes. As it was, he knew that he was overreacting, but the thought that another person he trusted was betraying him was so emotionally painful that he would do anything to stop the voicing of said doubts.

"Do you require anything else?" Arthur shook his head, and Merlin gave the nod of a perfect servant before leaving.

~.~

"I'm leaving."

Gaius nearly upset the flask that he was delicately pouring a potion into and looked up into the determined but grieved face of his ward. "What?" He stood up.

"Why? Does Arthur know?"

Merlin gave a somewhat bitter bark of laughter. "I'm starting to wonder if he knows anything." He shook his head. "No, he doesn't – I'm just tired of being almost banished all the time. If this is how Arthur reacts to the truth, it's only a matter of time before he banishes me for real." He sighed. "I'd rather leave on my own terms."

"But Merlin-"

Merlin held up a pleading hand. "Please, Gaius. It might not be for forever, but I need to leave now. If not, I worry I might let my anger get the better of me." Like Morgana. The words were not spoken, but both men heard them.

"Merlin," Gaius continued with a mix of worry and weariness, "you know Arthur doesn't mean it. He hides it, but he trusts you."

Only his deep love for his father figure kept Merlin from snorting in disbelief. Mithian had said something similar during her stay. "Arthur values your opinion above almost all others." That statement had brought a surprising amount of joy to his heart which helped him get through all that had happened during her visit, including the threats of banishment and finding Gwen wounded and alone.

But then, she'd only known him a few days. Gwen had said, when she'd come to comfort Merlin during Gaius' kidnapping, "Arthur trusts Agravaine more than anyone." Gwen had known Arthur much longer than the princess, so she was probably closer to the mark.

"Not enough," Merlin replied, shifting the small bag he'd managed to pack to the other side of his back, "don't worry, Gaius, I'm not abandoning destiny. I'll still protect the prat – just from more of a distance."

Gaius walked over to the younger man, putting his hands on Merlin's shoulders. "I'm not worried about that – I'm worried about you." He looked his surrogate son in the eye. "Where will you go? What about me and all your friends here?"

Merlin gripped the other's arm reassuringly. "I'll write. I'll visit when I don't think I'll get caught. I'm not abandoning you."

"I know," Gaius sighed, "Merlin, please don't go."

Merlin smiled sadly and stepped backward after a final squeeze of Gaius' arm. "I'm sorry," he said, turning to leave, "I have to."

 ~.~

Arthur had thought it strange when, the night before, there had been his dinner on the desk and the bedclothes pulled back, but no Merlin. However, he hadn't been too concerned since Gaius had been busy the past few days and likely had asked for Merlin's assistance. That, and he'd been so exhausted after council and training that he only had the energy to bolt down his cooling dinner and collapse into bed before falling asleep.

But when the light, rather than Merlin's obnoxiously cheery voice, woke him, he knew something was wrong.

He blinked the bleariness from his eyes and looked around to see breakfast spread on the table beside him, and a tub of bathwater with steam rising off it near the screen he changed behind. But no Merlin. He shifted onto his side, startling the manservant standing beside the bed who was reaching down to rouse him. "George?"

"At your service, sire." The manservant said primly and properly as he efficiently shifted the pillows behind Arthur's back before spreading a pristine cloth napkin over his chest. Arthur just stared at him as the man turned to pick up a plate and fork. Where is Merlin?

It was possible that he had stayed with Gaius into the early morning to help with any severely ill patients, but he never sent a replacement. He would usually be too occupied with tending to the patient to do such a thing. Occasionally he'd ask Gwen – a sharp dagger seemed to pierce his heart at the reminder – to give Arthur a hand, as she would have come in to help tend to the patients, despite technically being a lady after Elyan's knighting.

And it was too early for even Merlin to be at the tavern.

"George," he said, and the manservant turned with such speed that his heels clicked together, "where is Merlin?"

A look of unease crossed George's face and he was clearly conflicted in how to answer the question. Arthur sat up straighter, a bolt of worry shooting through him. "Where is he?"

Only years of training and strict personal discipline kept George from shuffling his feet. He knew the king would not like his answer. "He quit, sire."

There was a moment of dead silence.

"He WHAT?"

 ~.~

Gaius continued stirring the medicine he was preparing for the cook who'd been having problems with her left wrist, trying to ignore the emptiness that filled his heart at Merlin's absence. Out of habit, he'd called Merlin at least twice to get his lazy bones down for breakfast before remembering that his ward was gone. He knew he would miss Merlin, but hadn't known just how much.

Just as he was forcing himself to refocus on the medicine, the door to his chambers banged open. He looked up to see Arthur rushing in, questions and bewilderment in his eyes. Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Sire. I would prefer next time you knock. If I had a patient in here, I would have liked to make sure they were decent first." He turned back to his medicine. "Luckily, I've had no overnight patients for a while."

Arthur stopped. "You didn't have any patients here last night?"

"No, sire."

Arthur looked puzzled. "Then why wasn't he…."

"He left last night, sire."

"Why would he leave?"

Gaius looked up. "He said he was being banished."

The king blinked. And then blinked again. "Why would he think that?"

Gaius gave him a look that he recognized from his time as a young knight being trained to deal with battlefield injuries and he'd been so ill at ease that he'd managed to tie the bandage on the wrong arm. It was a mix of disbelief and resignation that never failed to make Arthur feel like a blockhead. Gaius, having known the king since he'd helped deliver him, was one of the increasingly few people who could still pull that off.

"Well, sire…"

~.~

It took him much longer than it did usually to reach the Lake of Avalon, given that he'd opted on walking rather than taking his horse, which he supposed wasn't technically his anymore now that he'd left. Merlin didn't mind, though, as the walk gave him a chance to clear his mind and remain undetected as he walked briskly out of Camelot and into the forest.

When he arrived, he didn't stop for long. He only paused long enough to brush his fingers across the surface of the water, and whisper a heartfelt promise to return soon and frequently to his beloved who rested below the lake before walking away, farther from Camelot.

Merlin walked through the night, the glow of the waning moon lighting up his determined but solemn face as he continued on his way, not sure of his destination but needing to get further away. He'd been walking for several hours when he came to a stop in an open clearing.

Breathing heavily, Merlin allowed all the emotions he'd been trying to hold back to crash around inside his mind, colliding cacophonously together. Gaius being kidnapped. Gwen being banished. Lancelot being disgraced and used as a puppet. The knights threatening him and Gwen for speaking truth. Agravaine lying and being believed. Arthur believing Agravaine despite him being proved wrong so many times. Arthur yelling and threatening his friends. Arthur not believing him…  
It all became a massive, boiling rage and Merlin reared back his head and yelled.  
He wasn't sure of half of what he was yelling – he knew that half was full of disbelief and curses that would have made his mother run for the soap had she been in hearing, but the other half was probably better not known.

It was too much. Living two lives had always been tricky, especially since he was living in a place where one of those lives would get him killed on the spot, no matter how hard he'd tried to change Arthur mind to the contrary. It was hard working for Arthur, working for Gaius, helping anyone who needed help and trying to thwart any of Morgana's plans while trying not to be too obvious in front of Agravaine. He didn't need his prat of an almost-friend yelling at him, threatening him with all sorts of things for trying to help.

When people asked him why he would serve Arthur, especially those who had magic and knew of his, he always had a ready answer. Except now, he wasn't sure he totally believed it. There was too much frustration and bitterness in Arthur's heart right now, and it was only natural that Merlin would be suffering from those same effects. It was just that Merlin had to deal with that and with his secret, and with his knowledge about what had been really happening in Camelot for the past few months since Agravaine had arrived.

By the time Merlin had finished yelling, he was on his knees and panting heavily as he stared at the ground. He was feeling somewhat better and even managed a half-amused snort of laughter as he straightened up. And even after all that, I still see that prat as my friend.

He drew up his legs into a sitting position and sighed. Merlin had really thought that, after Mithian's visit when Arthur had for once actually directly asked for his advice, things were on the mend between them. That Arthur had realized how much Merlin wanted to help and how much his help was really worth. But apparently he had been wrong.

There was an oddly familiar rushing of wind behind Merlin, and he turned around to see Kilgharrah landing behind him with a surprising amount of grace given his large build. Merlin blinked several times.

"What are you doing here?"

Kilgharrah – somehow – quirked an eyebrow as he looked down at the dragonlord.

"You summoned me, young warlock."

"But I didn't summon –" Merlin started, and then stopped. A thick red blush spread across his face as he realized just what the other half of his yelling must have been. "Oh."

The dragon began to shake slightly and Merlin was less than pleased to see that KIlgharrah was clearly trying to hold back his laughter. The last thing he needed right then was a dragon laughing at him.

Kilgharrah managed to calm down slightly. "You seemed distressed, Merlin. What's troubling you?"

"My prat of a destiny," Merlin groaned, standing up, "he was going to banish me, so I figured I would just beat him to it."

"Merlin!" Kilgharrah sounded scandalized, and about to launch into some sort of rant when Merlin cut him off with a hand.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm not abandoning my destiny. I'll still protect him like I'm supposed to – he just won't know it's me." He snorted slightly. "Actually, that's not really that much different from now."

The great dragon shook his head. "It's not just your destiny I am worried about, young warlock. It is you." He settled down more comfortably on the ground and looked at Merlin. "Camelot is your home, the home you will one day make into Albion. How can you leave?"

Merlin shrugged. "Better to leave than be banished."

"One cannot hate what makes it whole," the dragon said sagely.

Merlin shook his head. "You didn't see the way he spoke to me, the way he looked at me like I was almost an enemy." He sat down himself. "It hurts – I've done so much for him, Gwen and the others have done so much for him, and he just keeps shoving us away. And for who? Some uncle who's going to betray him openly as soon as it best suits him."

He crossed his arms around his folded legs. "There's no point in me staying there when I can protect his destiny just as well from the outside."

"But you are not happy out here."

Merlin smiled at the actual concern in the great dragon's voice. "And I was happy there?"

Kilgharrah nodded solemnly before raising his head. "Come, young warlock, I've something to show you." The Great Dragon stood up, extending one wing downwards and indicating that Merlin should climb on.

A purely cheeky grin spread across Merlin's face. "You want me to ride you?"

Kilgharrah looked grievously offended. "I'm not a horse, Merlin! Just get on."

Merlin obliged.

~.~

"Whooo!" Merlin bellowed joyously as the dragonlord and dragon soared through the early morning sky, the wind whipping past hair and scale and the heavens twinkling gloriously up above. The feeling of flight, of freedom, was absolutely intoxicating and Merlin was drinking it in with abandon. It was as though the weight of the responsibilities and secrets he bore fell away as they pushed off the ground, and he felt more free than he had in a long time.

"If you would cease all that shouting," Kilgharrah sounded amused, "you should look to the north, Merlin, and see what is there."

Merlin looked ahead obligingly, and saw Camelot. His heart panged almost painfully and he felt an odd sense of homesickness as he looked down onto the kingdom. He could see all the roads he'd walked when running errands for Arthur or spending time with Gwen. He could see the taverns where he'd had to haul Gwaine, laughing and drunk, out of when the two had overstayed their various welcomes. He saw the training grounds, the square, the stables, and all the memories he'd had of all the places, the good and the bad, assaulted him all at once. But it was strangely buffering, the onslaught of memories, and unbidden, the faces of those he cared about filled his mind. Gaius. Gwaine. Gwen. Leon. Elyan. Percival. Arthur…

With a jolt, he realized what the great dragon had been trying to say. He couldn't leave Camelot – not because of his destiny, but because it was his home. It had been home for a long time now, and he couldn't just leave it behind. If he tried, part of his heart would be left behind with it.

He loved Camelot more than he had ever loved Ealdor, even with his mother still living there. He could protect it from a distance, but he would be miserable. His place was there. His friends were there.

And one of those friends was a stupid prat of a king – no matter how much either of them would openly deny that. He just couldn't leave.

Merlin's soul and Kilgharrah's soul were brothers, and the dragon could feel the lessening of stress in the young man's shoulders and the peace of mind that was settling over him as they began to turn away from Camelot. "You see the wisdom of my words, young warlock?"

Merlin sighed, "Yes." He took in a deep breath of the gusting night air. "I need to go back – it's my home." He shot a cheeky glance at the dragon. "But why can't I make him suffer a bit first?"

There was a rich booming roar of laughter as the dragon began tilted downward towards the clearing. "Now when did I ever say you couldn't?"

 ~.~

Arthur was grateful, for once, that he'd been holed up in his chambers all day reviewing treaties and other documents – he hadn't had to walk around everybody and have to deal with all the questions about Merlin. He hadn't said anything to anyone, but the gossip in the castle traveled faster than sound itself and almost everyone knew the manservant was gone. Luckily, no one knew that he had been 'banished' – if that had been the case, Arthur was sure that Gwaine would have come barreling up and thrown down his gauntlet as soon as he'd heard.

It was a shockingly normal occurrence for Merlin to disappear for periods of time before coming back just when things were about to get serious, so no one had questioned it. Some thought he'd gone to see his mother in Ealdor, and a few others even thought he'd gone to escort Gwen there. But no one knew the truth besides Arthur and Gaius – and frankly, Arthur still couldn't believe it.

Why would he think he had been banished? Gaius hadn't been particularly helpful, beyond citing the multiple occasions that Arthur had threatened Merlin with banishment. But that was why Merlin shouldn't have taken that last threat seriously; Arthur had said it enough that one more time should have been like water off a duck's back. But apparently he had gone too far.

Dealing with Merlin's loss for a few days had been hard enough, back when they'd been cornered by the mercenaries in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. Dealing with his loss forever was going to be hard. Incredibly hard.

Arthur tossed his quill to the side irritably, and gritted his teeth as George nimbly bent down to pick it up before placing the king's dinner on the table. How could he had ever enjoyed people being deferent to him? It had only been a day with this bootlicker and Arthur was close to ripping his hair out with irritation. It hadn't been so hard the first time because he expected Merlin to be found and for things to go back to normal. But this time he wasn't coming back.

Determination fueled Arthur and he stood up, resolutely ignoring the frantic fluttering of his temporary manservant as he tried to get his master to sit back down so he could refasten his cloth napkin. He was Arthur Pendragon, and he did not give up at the first sign of problems. If his idiot best friend was running away for whatever confused reason, then it was his duty to bring him back. Merlin might be stubborn, but he couldn't possibly be as stubborn as his king.

"I'm going for a ride," Arthur said in his no-nonsense, regal tone, "I should be back within a few hours." He began striding towards the door, and just noticed his prim shadow following him. "Stay here. And don't you dare try to saddle my horse for me." And with that, he left his bewildered servant behind as he shut the door. 

~.~

Now that Merlin had decided to call off his self-banishment, he wasn't sure what to do with himself in the interim. It would be too far to go see his mother in Ealdor and he didn't really fancy trying to make a camp in the forests outside of Camelot. Now that he'd decided to stop running, he had no desire to run into any thieves or bandits. He might not have hesitated to use magic before against them, having not planned to return to Camelot, but his decision to return meant his magic – and his only means of defending himself – would have to remain hidden.

So he let himself be drawn to the meditative solitude of the Lake of Avalon, feeling the calming presence of his beloved beneath the water soothing him as he lay on his back and looked into the darkening sky. He had been walking much more slowly after he and Kilgharrah had parted ways, and had only arrived at the lake as the sun was beginning to set.

His stomach grumbled, irritated that he'd only eaten two fish that he'd caught in a nearby stream that day, but he chose to ignore it, devoting himself totally to the peace he found here. A peace that he had not been able to truly find in Camelot for some time.

Everything would work out in the end. It had to – Merlin had faith that it would have to. Until then, it was likely that they would have rough times ahead.  
Merlin heard the slight cracking of brush behind him but pretended he didn't – instead keeping his eyes closed and savoring the last few moments of peace before he returned to Camelot.

Arthur had wracked his brain trying to think of where Merlin might be, being pretty sure that he would not have stayed in the kingdom or in any of the local villages – someone would have seen him and reported his presence to any of the several people who were inquiring after him. The only other option he had thought of was the Lake of Avalon where Merlin had gone to be alone before, but he hadn't expected him to still be there. Surely Merlin would have moved on in the day that he had been gone. But luckily he was wrong, and his quarry was right in front of him.

"You only got this far?" Arthur asked, and internally smacked himself.

Condescending really wasn't the tone he should be setting here.

Merlin sat up and opened his eyes, although he did not face Arthur. Instead he stared out over the lake. "Clearly, sire."

"How could you only get this far? Were you walking backwards out of Camelot?" Arthur really needed to work on getting the words he actually wanted to say to come out of his mouth. He wasn't sure where the mocking was coming from; possibly from a need to get a snappy comeback from Merlin. Something that would show that the situation would be getting back to normal.

If so, he was disappointed with Merlin's response. "I walked this way, your highness. I did not want to use a horse from the royal stables – that would have been considered theft." He stood up. "And you are right, sire. I am far too close to the castle, but I will remedy that right-"

Arthur moved to block Merlin's path. "What are you talking about? What made you think you had to leave?"

Merlin arched his eyebrow in a way that made Arthur suspect that he'd been taking lessons from Gaius in how to look at Arthur like he was a blockhead. "Well, sire, the five or six threats of banishment were a start." Arthur opened his mouth, but Merlin cut him off. "And don't say you didn't mean them – I know better."

Arthur gaped like a fish for a moment, giving Merlin the chance to skirt around the king and began walking away. "I didn't mean them – not seriously." He struggled to retain some dignity. "And I was not the one flying off the handle, Merlin – I never said you were banished, just that I might in future."

"Somehow, sire," Merlin said, rolling his eyes although with his back to Arthur, "I don't find that much more reassuring."

"How else am I supposed to react when someone speaks near treason about my council?" Arthur demanded, although the demand was more for understanding than anything else, "Just let it pass?"

"No, but listening would be a nice change." Merlin turned to face Arthur. "Look, I don't expect you to agree with everything I say – the world would probably come to an end if you did. It's just…you need to listen to people other than yourself," and your uncle, he silently added, "and since those speaking their minds are likely to be banished, you're better stuck with a bootlicker for a servant. I might as well leave of my own will then wait for you to take the choice from me."

"Wait," Arthur stared disbelievingly at Merlin for a moment, "you knew that I hadn't banished you?"

Merlin's other eyebrow quirked up to meet its brother. "Obviously. I listen." Unlike you, you prat, he added silently, but Arthur saw the playful insult in Merlin's eyes and relaxed.

Arthur swallowed his pride. This was going to be hard to say, but it would be harder to see his friend go. Probably. "Look, Merlin. If I promise to," he swallowed, "listen to you more, would you come back to Camelot?"

The look of glee on Merlin's face was hard to take even if his wide grin was a very welcome change to the mask of servitude he'd been wearing earlier. "Does that mean you missed me?"

Arthur snorted, "Of course not. I just need someone to save me from George's appalling sense of humor. Terrible servant you may be, but at least you don't make jokes about brass," he shuddered.

Merlin read through the lines – as one often had to do when dealing with Arthur – to see that Arthur was saying yes to his question. Although he would probably die before admitting it.

"Do I get a raise if I come back?" Merlin asked as he began to follow Arthur back to his horse.

"Don't be stupid," Arthur barked as he cuffed Merlin affectionately on the shoulder, "You're lucky to have the job as it is." He looked seriously at his friend for a moment. "We both are." Then to cover face, he grabbed the horse's reins and the two men walked back home to Camelot together, the horse being lead beside them.

Equals, on equal footing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork by Wil1969 - you can find more of her work here: http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-813.html


End file.
